
He was close, but it was an illusion,
For he had me in the palm of his hand,
Shivering; but he thought I was dancing,
Screaming; but he thought I was singing,
Crying; but he thought I was laughing,
Tearing; but he thought I was happy.
He was close, but it was an illusion,
For he had me in the palm of his hand,
Shivering; but he thought I was dancing,
Screaming; but he thought I was singing,
Crying; but he thought I was laughing,
Tearing; but he thought I was happy.
And as small or meaningless
As it may seem,
It had every possible meaning
That one could imagine,
For it was you
Who gave it to me.
Will you be the Ocean that welcomes me,
As I dive into you with the surrender of a Star
That has shone enough for a day
And is longing to fade away?
I can see how fleeting this moment is, slipping through my fingers like running water; the more I tighten my grip, the more it escapes me. And so I will let it flow, and flow with it until the very last drop. For what does it gain me to dwell over the inevitable passage of time?